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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628580">To live without you, only that would be Torture</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalFoxes/pseuds/MagicalFoxes'>MagicalFoxes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canonical Character Death, Cas is in the Empty, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Dean Winchester Misses Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote this very quickly at midnight, It's not great but I'm emotional af, Post-Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Pre-Episode: s15e20 Carry On</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:21:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,209</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628580</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalFoxes/pseuds/MagicalFoxes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean could never let him go, even when it seemed impossible to get him back; even when it was what Cas wanted. Something linked them, and it was deeper than just Cas being his savior.</p><p>(Not related to my other fic, but very much written with the same level of WHAT that I've been feeling for the last 2 weeks. Suffer with me, won't you? Also yes the title is an Addams family quote because my two major ships are Destiel and Morticia/Gomez, don't judge me,)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester &amp; Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To live without you, only that would be Torture</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Tonight's the finale and I'm setting my Clown make-up as we speak. Y'all ready for this? Cuz I'm not.<br/>I literally wrote this in like ten minutes at midnight so it's not great but I needed to get my emotions out.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam wondered in the days following Chuck's defeat if he would ever get used to the empty feeling of the Bunker. Without Cas and Jack, there was a void that seemed impossible to fill. Most days it felt like he was completely alone. Dean hardly left his room, and when he did he hardly spoke. He had been so obviously depressed, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why. There were times Sam would catch him in the kitchen at odd hours, headphones on while he picked at whatever meal he had thrown together, and more often than not his expression would be angry or confused, or a mixture of both. Sam would knock on the doorframe to make himself known and Dean would immediately shift, shoveling food into his mouth and trying to talk around it, and Sam would roll his eyes and tell him to finish chewing first. He pretended not to notice the soft sighs and far off looks, or the way smiles were so painfully forced in his direction. They hadn't talked about what happened to Cas, not really, but Sam knew in his heart that whatever his brother had witnessed was too much for him to carry alone.</p><p>It was around four-thirty in the morning when Dean came creeping out of his bedroom and made his way into the Library where they kept the good Scotch. Sam waited patiently in the dark for him to switch on a light, smirking a little at the surprised jump and aggressive hiss of “Jesus Christ!”</p><p>“Why the hell are you sitting in the dark?” Dean demanded, walking over to the Alcohol cabinet and retrieving the crystal decanter. He poured a glass and then motioned with the bottle to Sam, silently asking if he wanted any.</p><p>Sam shook his head, “I’m good,” he said. Crossing his legs, he leaned back in the chair and laced his fingers together over his stomach, hoping to seem relaxed and unthreatening.</p><p>“You gonna answer my question?” Dean pressed.</p><p>Though he seemed annoyed, Sam could tell his brother was only putting up a front. The emptiness in his eyes was enough of a tell. “You do it every night, what’s your reason?”</p><p>“I do not,” Dean insisted, joining him at the table.</p><p>Sam rolled his eyes, but he didn’t miss the way Dean’s face flushed. “So, what is it?” he asked.</p><p>Dean looked at him, visibly confused. “What’s what?”</p><p>“What’s the thing you aren’t telling me?”</p><p>There was a beat of silence, before Dean leaned forward over the table, bracing an elbow on the surface as he took a sip from the crystal cup in his hand. “It’s nothing,” he replied, refusing to meet Sam’s eye.</p><p>“Look,” Sam said, concerned but frustrated. “I know that all of this has been hard on you. I know that losing Cas-,”</p><p>“Don’t.”</p><p>Sam stopped abruptly, shrinking under the dark glare suddenly burning a hole through his skull. Dean’s grip tightened around his glass and his jaw clenched enough to seem painful, lips quivering ever so slightly. Sam would have been lying if he said he wasn’t surprised.</p><p>“You have no idea how I feel right now. You couldn’t begin to imagine what losing him is doing to me, so shut up and leave it alone, Sam, or so help me I will break your jaw.”</p><p>“Dean-,”</p><p>“I said leave it.” Dean started to get up, but stopped abruptly and dropped back down heavily. “Who am I kidding?” he asked softly, but it seemed more like a question to himself than to his brother.</p><p>Sam sat up, leaning over the table slightly, “What’s going on?”</p><p>Dean scoffed, “I don’t even know,” he admitted, gaze fixed on the letters carved into the polished wood of the table. “There were things said...things Cas said, and I...it’s just that I don’t know how to work it all out in my head.” He looked up, and this time instead of anger, there were tears in his eyes. “There were things I needed to say, that I’ll never get to, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with those things now.”</p><p>“What things?” Sam asked cautiously. He didn’t want to push too hard, for fear of Dean shutting him out again. There was an uncertainty in his eyes that Sam had never seen before; something like a young child afraid of being scolded for accidentally breaking a toy. It made him seem so small and timid.</p><p>“He...confessed.”</p><p>Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “Confessed to-?” It took only a second for the realization to hit him, and Sam couldn’t keep the surprise from his face. “Oh...<em>oh</em>.”</p><p>“Yeah, oh.”</p><p>Taking a deep breath, Sam tried to wrap his mind around the information. “So...did you say anything back?”</p><p>“There wasn’t any time,” Dean said, and the pain in his voice was unmistakable. “He was there and then he was gone.”</p><p>Sam reached out, carefully setting his hand on his brother’s arm. He remained silent, watching Dean expectantly, urging him to go on while reassuring him that he wasn’t alone.</p><p>“Everything I’ve done, the bad, the stupid, he didn’t care. He’s the only one who’s always come back. No matter what I’ve put him through...he’s always come back.” Dean choked on the last word, dropping his head and staring down into his still half full drink. “But he isn’t coming back this time, Sammy, and I never got to say that I-,” he stopped, like the words were too heavy to expel from his throat.</p><p>But Sam knew, he always had. Anyone who saw Dean and Castiel together could tell there was something there; something deep rooted and powerful. Tough, suave Dean, never tripped up in front of a girl, never got too attached, never fought to keep anyone who didn’t want to stay, and yet he had done all of those things with an Angel. Cas never backed down against Dean’s stubbornness, was never intimidated by his anger, and always forgave whatever had been said or done because of spur of the moment emotions. Dean could never let him go, even when it seemed impossible to get him back; even when it was what Cas wanted. Something linked them, and it was deeper than just Cas being his savior.</p><p>“Then we get him back.”</p><p>Dean looked up again, eyes confused and red. “Were you not listening?” he asked. “He’s in the Empty, Sam. There’s no getting him back this time.”</p><p>“Dean, we have a key to Death’s library, a direct line to God himself, and the book of the Damned,” Sam said. “Not to mention an entire Bunker full of the largest collection of lore and supernatural knowledge known to man. If anyone can open up the Empty and yank out an Angel, it’s us.”</p><p>A glimmer of hope flashed across Dean’s expression, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. “You really think we can do that?”</p><p>“I’m willing to try if you are.”</p><p>Dean huffed a short laugh, something Sam hadn’t heard in a while, and knocked back his drink in a single gulp. As the glass connected with the table, he tossed his brother a determined smirk. “Well, let’s get to it.”</p>
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